• Ashel strode down the halls of the secondary realm’s capital. He walked with a black cane that he used to give balance for his right leg. His light gold hair that went down to his waist was tied with a black bow that was somewhat frayed near the ends.
    His black top hat and suit made him appear to be a gentleman preparing to go out on a night in town, yet that was not why he was there.
    For the past two decades the other wizards had taken a keen watch on him. His aloof, blunt manner made it so he repelled most people, but usually attracted women.
    As he walked down the halls with an elegant swagger in his step, lower wizards stopped to gawk at the man who kept his bright lavender eyes ahead of him at all times.
    If they ever met the eyes of another, then it would either make them recoil, or with the small smile a crimson face.
    The halls were gilded in a gold that most wizards wore as talismans to hide from witch hunters. It was such a cold and acidic name to call them, when they only wished at the time witch hunters were conceived to help the ones who did not own these abilities. Witch sounded like some sort of person who rode around on a broom gimmick with a giant wart on her nose, and green skin.
    Ashel had only one of these talismans he found joy in seeing them morph in to terrified stances when he revealed his true powers. Yes, he was a sadist in the eyes of most people. But at the same time he was just that way towards wizards who were out to fight him, or arrogant humans with no gift at all except their mind of weapons and war.
    He plucked at the talisman buckle on his belt. It was a very weak powered one, so that the witch hunters not worth his time could walk right past him. It appeared to be made out of gold metal that had been smelted to give the impression they were rose vines.
    The two wizards standing guard before the giant doors that were created to look as if they were ivory vines of pure silver with dragons curling around them were promptly opened for him.
    He strode inside, greeted by the usual wizards who acted as the speakers for the rest of the important ones with much better things to do then scold a vain wizard who usually assailed their tries at finding a way to make him comply.
    The first one, sat upon a throne of pearl and silver. She had black hair and wasp eyes. Her mouth was in a thin line, but her eyes revealed absolute adoration for Ashel.
    The other was an older man who sat on the throne to the left of her with his legs crossed. He had winter white hair, and a beard that went down to his knees. He was garbed in an outfit of light purple that was almost like a sleeping gown.
    “We have heard of the incident Master Ashel,” Chokai stated trying to appear in a mood to reprimand him.
    “You have now?” Ashel asked leaning on his cane, while examining his fingernails.
    “Why do you continue to try and go against your orders?” Chokai asked severely.
    Ashel tilted his head back a bit as if in deep though. He stared at them squarely after a moment.
    “You make it so fun to break the rules,” he said laughing like he had gotten away with the prank of the century, “I do one thing wrong and you go squealing to the higher ups.”
    Chokai snarled, but the young wizard by him named Ukabu giggled behind her hand.
    “You continue to act out in ways that will make it so we are revealed to the powerless human,” Chokai roared standing up with his fists clenched.
    Ashel tugged at a stray lock of hair loosed from the bow. He twirled it around his fingers paying no mind to Chokai or Ukabu anymore.
    “Why are you trying to make it so that our existence is continuously hindered for those who live with mortals?”
    Ashel pulled his finger free of the lock of hair. He waved his hand dismissively.
    “I think that you are really blowing this out of proportion. All I did was defend my hide against a witch hunter. Tricky one this time too.”
    Ukabu suddenly spoke up. “If you lived here then there would be no need to do that.”
    She blushed, before looking down in her hands that were folded on her black dress. Ashel sighed, “Not interested.”
    “There will be that consequence if you continue to kill hunters like such in public. Two mortals saw everything.”
    He cocked an eyebrow, “Everything?”
    “The moment when you drew your sword,” Chokai said coughing slightly.
    “That doesn’t sound like everything,” Ashel mused, “It sounds like they saw me as I dealt the last blow. Most of the time I’d be preferable to doing it the old fashioned way, but seeing as that way has not been granted in over two hundred years, well, my hopes have all but diminished.”
    “Bringing a mortal to this realm to execute is prohibited,” Chokai said through clenched teeth.
    Ashel laughed again. “You still are as old and uptight as ever I see. When was the last time I came to Widron? Has it been two, no, maybe three-“
    “Five hundred years today,” Ukabu stated.
    Ashel smirked, “That’s scary. Even I don’t take in to record when I last came here.”
    “You hate Widron,” Chokai said rubbing his temples, “It isn’t surprising that you like to be in the world of mortals so much.”
    Ashel smiled mockingly, his manner annoying the elder of the two speakers.
    “We permitted you to go on and live in that realm, but I am telling you now as things are going you will have to return to Widron,” Chokai said, almost sounding as if he preferred Ashel in the world of mortals.
    Ashel turned his bright lavender eyes on Chokai in a horrible glare that was usually hidden by his aloof smile.
    “There is no way that I will ever come back here,” he said. “If you try and make me, more then witch hunters will turn up dead.”
    “Threats will not get you anywhere now young master,” Chokai said standing again. “We have decided your punishment.”
    “What will it be then?” Ashel asked in a sarcastic cold tone, “Will you make it so I have my power halved for a hundred years, or will you strip me of my powers all together?”
    “Ukabu,” Chokai said motioning to the female wizard.
    She stood up and walked down from the two thrones. Ashel had lost his patience for being near the two wizards. He directed his deathly glare on the wizard, hoping she would step down.
    But she did not. Ukabu reached her hand up to Ashel’s chest, drawing a circle over his heart.
    “Do you intend to keep me with her for a hundred or so years?” Ashel asked Chokai, “That truly would be torture.”
    “No,” Chokai said settling in to his throne.
    As Ashel opened his mouth to retort, he felt a burst of pain. He looked down at Ukabu to see she had finished tracing a golden circle that was burning in to his chest.
    Ashel grabbed Ukabu’s wrist, intent on breaking it in a way to get his revenge, but she snapped her fingers. He collapsed to the ground, feeling the sensation of a giant boulder on his back. As he tried to sit up, Chokai said the following.
    “We decided the best way for you to cope with mortals is to live among them until we see fit to call you here again. This circle will make it so you will not age from your appearance of twenty years. But, it also makes it so you are fated to meet a mortal you will ultimately find affections for.”
    “Damn you!” Ashel screamed sitting up, his gold hair loosing even more from its tie.
    Chokai smirked, glad to see the reckless wizard getting what he deserved after so many years of going against the rules and regulations set before them by the wizards who had founded the city.
    “Do not worry though,” Chokai went on, “If you fail to do this, or you are hated by the mortal girl, then you will come back here and face a stream of tortures many wizards did not think humanely existed in Widron anymore.”
    Ashel glared at the wizened wizard. He spat out a curse that was only known in their tongue, and strode out of the room. As he exited through the silver doors though, he felt his body lurch to a stop.
    “I hope you realize this is a way to learn a valuable lesson,” Chokai said still smirking.
    “Doesn’t make me like you more by saying that,” Ashel said throwing a cold glare at Ukabu and Chokai when he regained control of his body.
    He turned on his heel, using his cane to walk quickly through the halls, like he was charging at some invisible foe.
    “What will he learn from this anyway?” Ukabu asked, sitting down by Chokai again.
    “Love,” Chokai stated, “He is usually showered with women’s affections because of his glamorous looks and aloof smile. The one who he is going to find, well she is not as easily taken, not to mention she is already in possession of the key he needs to free himself with.”
    “Was it even wise to create a key?”
    Chokai nodded, “He will only be given it, if he can learn to have humanity for those who have done wrong to him in the past.”
    Ukabu sighed, disappointed somewhat by these new circumstances.
    “The one thing that he does not realize is, when he tries to use her to his advantage, it will only turn on him. There may be a chance he will still end up with you though.”
    “What do I have to do?” Ukabu asked nearly jumping out of her throne.
    “Nothing. It will be decided if the mortal loses any care for Ashel. If he acts coldly to her and makes her hate him, then that will be when your time to act is. But only then,” Chokai murmured. “Now I think would be time for a nap, have a good evening Ukabu.”
    He walked out of the room, like any tired old man would. Ukabu sat in her throne still, pondering if there was a way to make the famous Ashel care for her.
    But the answer that kept coming to mind was one word that came in many ways of describing.
    Impossible. No way on earth. Not gonna happen.
    It made her feel the strongest hatred that never had crossed in to her mind before. She felt hatred to the mortal girl that would find a way to make Ashel love her, when in fact it could not even be recorded in history of a wizard loving a mortal.
    She sat that way, seething angrily for hours on end. Into the night, Ukabu grew the hatred like a disgusting weed that feeds on other plants. Only one thing she wanted to know then. Who was this mortal?
    Yet she would not know for quite a while. Over the next few years her patience would linger till it was nearly nothing but a wall that Ukabu wanted to destroy.
    “What is that girl’s name?” she said through clenched teeth, “Who is that damn girl?”

    Eight year old Crystalla (Crysta for short) sat on her bed listening eagerly as her grandmother told her another of her amazing stories that could leave her in awe for the rest of the night, and then affect her in her sweet dreams.
    Today she was eight. The finally awaited birthday, when she officially a big girl. Her grandmother spun a tail of witch hunters chasing after one wizard that Crysta adored to hear about.
    She would stare up at her grandmother with her pure blue eyes in a face framed by pure black hair.
    “The wizard,” her grandmother stated, “Was so angered by all that the hunters had done to him. Killing his parents before his eyes then coming after him for so many years. You can understand how scared and infuriated he felt, now can you?” she asked her young granddaughter.
    “Uh-huh,” Crysta said bobbing her head up and down in a perky little nod.
    “Well,” her grandmother went on, “So enraged was he, he took his sword and slew each one of the hunters in the town square. He left the bodies over night, to be discovered by the families. That began his years of running, and destroying anyone who raised a weapon to him.”
    “Why would he do that though?” Crysta asked tilting her head to one side.
    “Hatred is a very strong thing,” her grandmother told her, “I hope that your hatred will never become so immense.”
    “Never ever ever!” Crysta promised.
    Her grandmother smiled and patted her on the head. She held up a small box with a purple bow around it handing it to her sweet little granddaughter.
    “If only your twin were here,” she said sighing. “I just know he would love these stories as much as you do.”
    Crysta ignored this comment as she tore open the box. Inside was a key that her grandmother had placed on a chain for her. The bow of the key was shaped like a red rose that had its leaves a crafted silver. The blade had rose vines running up it, thorns also visible.
    “Do not worry of pricking your finger, it won’t hurt you,” the grandmother said.
    “What does it open?” Crysta asked placing the chain around her neck, the key hanging from it with very little weight.
    “It’s a surprise,” she replied, “You’ll find out one day, and trust me; you’ll love what it will unlock.”
    Her grandmother pulled the covers down for her, motioning for Crysta to slip in between them. Crysta began to whine, but with a firm look, Crysta silenced herself and pulled the blankets up to her chin.
    “Goodnight,” her grandmother said kissing her forehead.
    “Night,” Crysta said smiling.
    “Promise me though,” her grandmother said after a minute, “You won’t lose that key.”
    “Promise!” she said happily.
    Her grandmothers smiled, pushing back some hair out of Crysta’s face. She stood up stopping at the doorway to look back at her granddaughter, and then flipping the switch off.
    Crysta held the key up to her face, before dropping it to lie on her chest. She rolled over, feeling the coolness of the chain slowly warm to her skin.
    She held it in her hands as she slept not worrying it would harm her with the metal made thorns. Her grandmother’s prediction it would not harm her was true, as she fell in to a deep slumber.